#shield that guards the realms of men

[kolumnist-art]

I haven't posted in a while, but lately I haven't much time for drawing. So I stole my Targaryen Prince Jon from my previous fanart and dressed him up in his canon look 😅 So here is…

Jon Snow, the Bastard of Winterfell ⚔️ 998th Lord Commander of the Night’s Watch.

Who do you ship Jon Snow with? ❤️

#jon snow #bastard of Winterfell #sword in the darkness #watcher on the walls #fire that burns against the cold #light that brings the dawn #horn that wakes the sleepers #shield that guards the realms of men #lord commander #nights watch #book jon snow #longclaw #jon snow fanart #ghost fanart #mormonts raven #digital illustration #fanart #illustration #character design #kolumnist art #drawing #illustrators on tumblr #digital art #game of thrones #asoif/got #asoif fanart #asoif

[nightswatchdisbandmentera]

There are a lot of theories out there about the true identity of the last hero, but I think the one that makes the most thematic sense is that he was a member of the original Night’s Watch. See the last hero’s identity is shrouded in mystery but his deeds live on forever and he is attributed with having led to the defeat of the Others. The legends show that his actions are famous, but the man himself is forgotten.

This seems quite close to what being a member of the Night’s Watch entails. The Watch’s vows dictate that members, who are the sword in the darkness and the fire that burns against the cold thus directly marking them in opposition to winter and the Others, shall hold no lands, wear no crowns, and win no glory. They are known to the rest of the kingdoms as those who guard the realms of men, but their identities and individual triumphs are largely unimportant.

This is a shared parallel between the members of the Night’s Watch and the last hero. We don’t know anything about his name, house, or background. Even the title ‘the last hero’ is merely an identifier - note that it’s in lower case. So it would make sense that the last hero’s identity is to remain anonymous if that was the entire point of it all; he was a man of the Night’s Watch and thus, indirectly, swore a vow of anonymity. And better yet, we don’t even know who his twelve companions were. We know only that they rode out with him and died in the process. However we do know that in the north, there are two figures who are directly identified as having been responsible for the ending of the long night: the last hero (as per folk tales narrated by Old Nan) and the Night’s Watch (see the Night that Ended). It could be that the legend of the last hero and his twelve companions is a glimpse of the NW’s last stand.

I also think it’s interesting that we have various last hero parallels in the text who are members of the Night’s Watch. We first have Waymar Royce who seems very last hero-y in the AGOT prologue. Then we have Jon Snow who is implicitly identified by the narrative as a last hero figure. And it gets even more interesting when we consider that Jon has at many times stated that as a member of the night’s watch, he is to remain a shadow among all shadows. His greatest deeds are to go unnoticed and his name is not to be spoken in the halls of men. His deeds could live on, but his name won’t; even more interesting when we consider that Jon, due to his bastardy, technically doesn’t actually have a name to begin with. And what makes Jon’s connection to the last hero so poignant is that while the last hero’s name has been lost to history, Jon has a whole thing about being a lost and forgotten prince/king.

But there’s a rather unexpected last hero parallel in Sam Tarly, also a member of the Night’s Watch. Sam is not magically special, nor is he marked as someone with a particularly important bloodline or destiny. However, he is the first person in thousands of years to slay an Other. And he did that using a shard of dragonglass, which provides an interesting callback to the last hero’s dragonsteel blade. There’s also the parallel of both heroes being the last men standing after an Other attack. But interestingly enough, there’s a slight deviation in that though we still do not know who the last hero was, we do know of Sam the Slayer.

So it’s entirely possible that the last hero was one of the members of the original NW. And this makes for a rather interesting foil in another character who is explicitly stated as having a relationship with the Others - the Night’s King. It’s interesting if both figures have some background with the NW due to the dichotomy that arises. The last hero kept his vows and wore no crown and got no glory, but the Night’s King very directly broke his. The last hero protected the realms of men, while the Night’s King embarked of a path of destruction. And he was, quite famously, a member of the Night’s Watch (and is even identified as having been the 13th lord commander). But it’s interesting that while we don’t really know of the Night’s King’s true identity, we are actually given multiple clues by the narrative. We’re even told that he may have been a Brandon Stark - thereby having a name which the last hero doesn’t. But even then, just as it was with the last hero, the Night’s King has deeds which live on forever even though his name (very deliberately) has not.

#asoiaf #valyrianscrolls #the night's watch #the last hero #jon snow #sam tarly #the nights king #all I’m saying is it might be really important that all but one of the last hero’s parallels are members of the nw #which makes me wonder - can bloodraven be considered a last hero parallel? #tbf he’s really only got the whole cavorting with the children thing so idk #but he has been long forgotten beyond the wall and he is obviously doing his part in being the #shield that guards the realms of men but just in a different way #and there’s also coldhands who is obviously a member of the nw forever ranging beyond the wall #plus he obviously has a connection to the children #and unlike bloodraven but much like the last hero coldhands’ identity is shrouded in mystery #and maybe benjen stark counts as another parallel? he’s got the whole last man standing thing going on #and he probably left the shards of dragonglass that ghost & jon found #and given that jon and benjen could both be considered last hero parallels #it might then be that he was a stark - which checks out since his foil the nk was most probably a stark as well #and like the nk he may have been a brandon stark - maybe not bran the builder but one of the many brandons lost in history #and thus comes the parallel with our main brandon - little greenseer bran stark #anyway not too fussed about the last hero’s name because I think it’s what he represents that matters most #so yeah…. #my stuff

[crystalskiesandcherrywine]

The sound of the waves collide // Part Three

Now we are getting somewhere... smutty. Given the nature of our favourite Giedi Prime bad boy, you can think of some possible tw.

And now I need to lay back on the couch and listen to NIN "Closer" on repeat...

Na Baron Feyd Rautha x Atreides!Reader

FXM

All feedback is welcome <3

Part One // Part Two // Part Four

1.264 words

Reverend Mother summons you. In the grandeur of the Emperor's library, amidst the tranquil silence and the books that whisper of forgotten tales, you stand before her. Kaitain, the residence of the Emperor, has a mild climate and seems comparatively softer than the weather in your Atreides home. It makes me wonder how the harsh surroundings of Giedi Prime affect its people and the ruling House of Corrino. You think this might be the last time you can enjoy your linen gowns, airy and light, with the fabric flowing down to your feet.

„How was your meeting?“ She says while reading a message scroll without looking up. 

"We were officially introduced and I already sense a degree of ownership in him." Lying to her would be futile. 

"And what about your second meeting?" Although her tone remains unchanged, your body stiffens. 

"Unexpected" is all you can muster. Reverend Mother lifts her veil and says, 

„He seems to destabilise you with surprising ease. Remember your mission: you are the one in control, not him. So much hangs in the balance, and you should know the consequences of not following through.“

The remainder of Lady Jessica's insubordination stings, but you bite your tongue. 

"I heard that Na Baron takes great pride in his cobat skills. He should be in the training halls at the moment." With the veil being placed back in front of her face and the sound of the message scroll being closed, you are dismissed. 

Guided by servants, you arrive at the training grounds. Your brother isn't there, having skipped his routine to spend time with his wife after their wedding. A few servants stay on the perimeter, while Gurney and a couple of other familiar faces of the Atreides guard are visible in the ring. The Na Baron is in the middle of his training with other Harkonnens and doesn’t realize he is being watched. You appreciate the unobstructed view. Sweat is running down his chest, along his abs, into the waistband of his trousers. His skin seems to be made of porcelain, yet he is as flexible as a clear mountain spring, a stream of energy moving through him, a testament to his relentlessness.

Gurney notices you and you signal your desire with a small gesture of your hand to challenge him. Gurney raises an eyebrow but is too intrigued to decline. 

He approaches Feyd Rautha with confidence. 

"Your skills are well-known. Would you indulge in a sparring session? I believe we are a match for each other." 

The Na-Baron agrees. "With pleasure. It has been a while since I had such a formidable opponent as yourself.“ 

Their shields snap back into place, veiling them both in a slightly blue shimmer.

Although their combat is just training, both are instantly focused. With power and grace, they exchange knife jabs, and suddenly, with a swift motion, Gurney lands Na Baron on his back. Feyd retaliates with a knock of his head and now both are on the ground, interlocked but not willing to give up. Your eyes are on Feyds smooth, powerful movements. The thought of his grace extending beyond the realm of physical combat sends a shiver down your spine, igniting a fire within that you struggle to contain.

The sound of your clapping makes them both raise their heads towards you. 

„You are both well-seasoned warriors!“ you say, gathering the attention of the men. Feyd Rautha's gaze is filled with a mix that begins to seem familiar: adrenaline, lust, and something else that one could describe as malice. Both get up and bow their heads. 

„Do you enjoy the view?" he asks. 

"I certainly did," In reaction to your praise he raises the blade to his tongue and flicks it along the tip. Without further interaction, you turn away, leaving him panting and wanting more of you. 

You are on the way back to guest wing, seeking company of your parents. With only a few hours left together, you want to use all the remaining time to speak, to listen, and to keep your betrothed waiting. 

You are seated next to Paul and Irulan at dinner and their happiness serves as a calming ray of light in the mix of your emotions. Having changed into a dark green halter neck gown you feel like a shadow next to the happy couple. Seeing them like this strengthens your resolve to adhere to the plan and keep your desire for Feyd under lock and key. When you excuse yourself to retreat for the night's rest, Feyd Rautha appears suddenly next to you. 

„I would be honoured to escort you, Princess.“ His voice seems to conceal a sardonic, dark energy beneath a veneer of politeness.

Your parents do not object, so you take his arm and leave the crowded room. Not even five minutes later, he leads you down a different corridor, one that does not lead to your quarters. As you try to object, your back is against the wall, his knees nudging your thighs apart, and his mouth is claiming yours. You feel the impact of his methodical and measured actions instantly. It appears something is simmering within him, waiting to break the surface. After what feels like an eternity, he releases your lips and gazes down at you with his stunning blue eyes. Your urge to kiss him back instantly almost overpowers you, the embers of carnal desire taking up more and more space within you.

Your hands reach out to his torso, feeling his muscles through the leather vest.He responds by closing his eyes and almost hissing. His lips descend on your neck like a hawk, his tongue dancing around the halter of your dress. The light material that was so comfortable only minutes earlier now irritates you. You want to be rid of it, rid of his attire and feel his skin against yours. Before you know it, you are facing the wall, feeling his body pressed against yours, his arousal evident. You are so close to giving in and then he makes a mistake.

„You will be a most exquisite addition to my collection, pet“ is objectifying and disrespectful.

 An instant wave of humiliation and anger washes over you. 

„Let me go!“ you growl, your voice full of indignation. 

'Are you sure? It doesn’t seem like it, yet again’“ He clearly toys with you. 

„Let me go“

He releases you instantly and you almost fall. In his eyes, you see the confusion everyone experiences when being subjected to the voice for the first time. 

„You are using your witch powers on me?“

 „How dare you mix me up with your so-called pets? I am a Princess of the House Atreides . If you even think of enjoying your pets and then laying your hands on me, you are mistaken!“ 

He doesn’t move but looks at you menacing, a vicious predator coming to the surface. 

"Is the Princess jealous now?" 

You stare at him angrily in return. The embers of desire are turned into a white glow of fury now.

 „I will return to my quarters alone.“

Without a word, he seems to turn around, then thinks better of it and presses you against the wall again. This time, his hand reaches right for your core, and the humiliation of being soaking wet is written on your face. His fingers circle your clit, making you whimper and as they crawl closer to your entrance, he abruptly stops. He seems to enjoy himself, sucking his fingers clean. As his steps disappear into the distance, you compose yourself and make your way. 

#feyd x reader #feyd rautha #feyd smut #feyd x you #dune part ii #dune movie #princess irulan #paul atreides #artreidis reader #feyd rautha imagine

[aegonx]

I am the shield that guards the realms of men.

#gameofthronesdaily #bymiranda #usersili #asoiafedit #asoiaf #jon snow #jonsnowedit #usermali #userarjay #tvedit #gotedit #thenorthsource #userblues #usersara #targaryensource #jonsnowsource

[holdmytesseract]

moodboard by @chennqingg <3

By the Fireplace

Jotun!Loki Laufeyson x fem!Æsir!Reader

Summary: You and Loki are enjoying some much needed togetherness and share some family moments, after he had been away on a hunt for a week.

Warnings: so much fluff... mentions of pregnancy and birth, Loki thirst, suggestive smut if you squint

Word Count: 2,3k

a/n: Yep, this is me, writing a Jotun!Loki fic - for the first time, I think... 🙈 I had this idea late last night and just wrote it down. 😅 Maybe this could be a part of the Winter Wonders Collection, @lokisgoodgirl ? ☺️ Loki is a Jotun, but not so tall. More like Thor 1 Loki. I hope this makes sense and you guys know what I mean. 😅 Enjoy! 🧡

Tagging: @lokisgoodgirl @lovingchoices14 @evelyn-kingsley @jennyggggrrr @acefeather2002 @lulubelle814 @vbecker10 @theaudacitytowrite @lady-rose-moon @aagn360 @fictive-sl0th @mostclevermiss @linaax @peaches1958 @simping-for-marvel

MASTERLIST

A loud knock against your chamber's door caused you to jump slightly. You were seated on the warm fur in front of the fireplace, with another fur draped across your body to shield it from the cold. Due to the unexpected loud noise, were you suddenly wide awake again, after threatening to fall asleep right then and there on the spot. Sleep wasn't a thing that came easily to you these days, so... You quickly rubbed your eyes, in order to get rid of the remaining sleep inside them, before you turned to answer. "You may come in!" The door opened on an instant. A guard stepped inside the royal chambers you shared with your husband, bringing a fresh wave of coldness, which made you shiver even more. Winters on Jotunheim were cruel... "Apologies for my unannounced and sudden intrude, my queen, but I am sent to inform you, that the king has returned." Your face lit immediately up. "The king has returned? My husband is back?" The guard nodded. "Yes, my queen. I shall tell you, he will be his wife as soon as possible." You had to swallow hard, in order to suppress the excited squeal which threatened to leave your lips and to behave yourself; maintaining your position as queen. "Thank you." You said instead. "You may leave now." The guard took a bow and left the room again. As soon as the door fell into its hinges, you allowed yourself to actually squeal in pure happiness.

Loki had been out, on a hunting trip for about a week now. It was the last one of this year, before the harsh winter would descend upon Jotunheim. In those few months, you usually weren't even able to set foot outside, due to the coldness and the raging snowstorms. Therefore, the royal men left for a huge hunt, in order to get a big winter stock. Usually, you always went with him on these hunts, in order to not be separated from him for so long, but this year, you couldn't. Something came in your way - or rather someone... Your gaze drifted over to yours and Loki's spacious bed. On the right - your side of the bed, were standing two beautifully crafted and adorned cribs; made of the best wood in the whole realm. Inside them were sleeping Jotunheim's newest additions to the royal family - princes Áki and Váli Lokison. The twins had been born only two weeks before the hunt - and therefore you had to stay in the palace. Loki wouldn't have let you go with him anyway, even if you wanted. He wanted you to rest and gather your strengths again - and of course to stay with the new-born boys. Not that he would've let you join him, if you had still been pregnant at that time. Oh no. Not a chance. No matter how, it was clear that this year's hunt was a taboo for you.

The past week had been exhausting, to say the least. Taking care of not one, but two new-borns wasn't easy. Not even with the help of a midwife. So, you were more than happy that Loki was back now. Not just because of that, of course. Seven days is a long time, and you really missed him.

Your train of thoughts got interrupted by a soft whine, coming unmistakeable from the left crib beside your bed. Getting up from the warm, soft fur, you made your way over to the boys. Áki was the one awake. He looked up at you with those big, beautiful ruby eyes. The unique marks on his blue-ish skin and the black fuzz on top of his small head left nothing to imagine, who his father was. While Áki resembled Loki a lot - except for the nose, which was definitely yours - looked Váli a lot more like you. Fair skin, Y/E/C eyes and your nose as well, alongside a tuft of blond curls.

"Hello, my little snowflake." You cooed, gently lifting Áki out of his crib. He was wrapped up - just like his still sleeping brother, in a warm, thick fur to keep him from freezing. The baby boy continued to whine softly, little mouth opening and closing, signalling you without a doubt that the tiny prince was hungry. You were able to tell by now, why Váli or Áki were crying. Most of the time at least. Therefore, you placed the fur, which had been wrapped around you aside with your free hand, before loosening your top; freeing the baby's food source - much to Áki's delight. Taking a last look on Váli, to make sure he was alright and still in a deep slumber, you sat down on the small stool in front of the fireplace, with your back towards the heat source - not to expose the new-born to the heat of the open fire. You freed his small arms as well from the warm cocoon he was wrapped in, so that he was able to hold on to you; gripping your pointer finger for dear life.

You were so caught up with Áki, that you didn't notice how the door to your chambers got opened quietly and the king of Jotunheim - your husband stepped inside. You wouldn't have even seen him coming, because you had your back towards the door as well. Usually, Loki announced his presence immediately, but since his sons were born, the Jotun king became much more cautious. He never knew if you or the were asleep - and to wake any of you was the last thing he wanted. Today, Loki was especially happy to set foot back into his and your chambers. Being away from his wife and new-born offspring was excruciating, but he had no choice. As the king, he had to look for his kingdom and follow royal duties, which included the annual winter stock hunt. His eyes wandered around the big main room; from the cribs, to the bed and wardrobe, down to the fireplace - where he spotted you, sitting on the settee. A smile spread on his face on an instant; his heart jumped in pure joy, love and pride. Loki knew exactly what you were doing, as he heard you speaking softly to the baby. On quiet feet, he stepped over to you, getting down on his knees on the soft fur behind you, before he placed his hands on your hips and his chin on your shoulder. You flinched slightly at the sudden contact, but your husband's deep, gravelly voice relaxed you immediately. "Hello, my darling wife." He literally cooed, pressing the front of his body against your back and turning his head to place a lingering kiss on your neck. Warmth and the feeling of pure love shot through your veins, causing you to smile broadly. "Welcome back home, my king." You turned your head as well to somehow connect your lips to his. It was an awkward angle, but the kiss didn't lack an ounce of passion. Quite the opposite...

Being separated was always awful for you and Loki, even if it was just a week. Being separated in this special and beautiful, but also vulnerable state in your life was even worse, even if it was just a week. So it was no wonder that Loki just kept his lips locked to yours for minutes and minutes, kissing you lazily but passionately. Your heart was literally standing aflame with love for him by now; and you realised in those moments how much you had truly missed the father of your children. "I missed you so much, Y/N." "Mhhh, I missed you, too, love." He smiled, and with a last, soft kiss on your now swollen lips, Loki nuzzled your nose with his, before he turned his head to the still eating baby. "And I missed our children." He said, as you felt him shift and move behind you. The king stood up, rounded the fur covered settee and stripped off his armour, until the leathery and furry loincloth was the last thing preventing him from being nude and leaving not much to imagine. You had watched him strip, of course. How could you be able to keep your eyes off your ravishingly handsome husband? You bit your lip as he turned to face you. Deep ruby eyes looking down at you, thin lips curved into a smile. Long, raven locks falling in waves over his bare, broad shoulders. Dark, curly hair was scattered across his chest and was leading in a tempting line from his navel down his pubic region and disappearing underneath the leathery garment. The muscles of his abs flexed gently as he breathed. Thick, muscly thighs lined the outsides of the loincloth. His blue-ish skin, which was covered in beautiful, unique marks and ridges, was literally shining in the dim light of the fireplace. You could feel your mouth watering at how delicious and alluring your husband looked - but this wasn't the time. You were recovering from giving birth to twins and therefore far away from thinking about sex.

"Do you like what you see, darling?" Loki purred, giving you that look. "Of course. Did I ever not like what I saw, when it comes to you, my king?" You flirted back shamelessly, having definitely missed those kinds of conversations. Your husband smirked, running a hand through his luscious curls, before he walked up to you again. "Would you move over, dearest?" Loki guided your movements, so that you were sitting on the edge of the settee on the long end. Your new position allowed Loki to sit behind you; one foot planted on the left side of the settee, the other on the right. He slid closer to you, pressing his chest against your back once again. Although this time, he enveloped you completely with his arms, helping you to steady the still eating Áki. Yes, that child was a little hog. Loki pressed once more a small kiss to your neck, before he settled his eyes on his son, watching him latch onto your exposed breast for a while.

The king smiled at Áki; one hand wandering to cup the infant's tiny hand. "I will never get tired of watching you feed and nurture our children, my love." You smiled, knowing that his words were true. Ever since Áki and Váli were born, Loki loved to watch you breastfeed them. It had something utterly calming and was even some kind of ritual by now. The boys were used to it as well. Especially Váli. You noticed this a lot in the past week... How the little boy was restless and antsy, while you fed him; always looking around for his father. Áki was quite alright with his father not always being present while he ate. "Me neither, Loki, me neither." You enjoyed a few more quiet minutes, watching Áki fall back asleep, until a small cry from your other baby cut through the air. "Someone's awake..." You stated with an audible smile. Loki hummed in agreement and let go of you to stand up and walk over to the cribs. He carefully lifted the crying new-born up into his arms, placing a lingering kiss on his small head, before he started to rock him gently. To feel the presence of his father seemed to calm Váli down again and soon both twin boys were sleeping peacefully in yours and Loki's arms.

Later on, after the princes were back in their cribs, you and your husband enjoyed some much-needed togetherness, seated in front of the fireplace, after having to miss the other's touch for days.

Loki sat on the big fur, casually leaning against a big pile of fluffy pillows, a goblet of the finest Asgardian wine in his hand. You were seated in between his legs, using his upper body as your pillow. Once again had Loki both his arms wrapped around you, keeping you locked against his chest. While you were covered in thick furs and blankets, was Loki still almost bare. No wonder. He was a Jotun and used to the harsh coldness of the winters in Jotunheim - unlike you... A shiver ran down your spine, causing you to cuddle closer to Loki. He noticed immediately. "Are you cold, my love?" You nodded. "Quite a bit, yeah... It's the same every year..." A low, soft chuckle escaped his lips, as he reached for another blanket to cover you and pull you even closer. "I know, my queen, I know - but don't fret. I will make sure to keep you safe and warm." His words melted your heart, warming you from the inside out. You turned your head to give him a loving smile, before indicating him to lean down for a kiss - what Loki did of course. The fire crackled within the fireplace, dipping your chambers in a cosy atmosphere. "How was the hunt?" You asked your husband then, who took a sip of his wine. "Great. Very successful. We have now more than enough food to come through those cold winter months." "That's great - and quite reassuring to know, that we are able to get our folk through the winter." Loki nodded in agreement. After all, it was your duty to look after your kingdom. "Indeed. It's been a hard, demanding week, without a doubt, but now we are prepared. The winter can come." You giggled, shaking your head. "Everyone is prepared now, except me. I hope the winter isn't coming too soon. I'm already freezing my ass off." Loki laughed. "I told you before, my queen... I'm going to make sure to keep you safe and warm, just like our sons - and I'll always will, as long as I am breathing."

#jotun loki x y/n #jotun loki x you #jotun loki x reader #loki laufeyson x female reader #loki laufeyson x reader #loki x reader #loki x y/n #loki x female reader #loki x you #loki #loki laufeyson imagine #loki laufeyson #loki imagine #loki oneshot #jotun loki

[thebastardofwinterfelljonsnow]

They were the shields that guarded the realms of men.

#jon snow #game of thrones #GOT #got Jon snow #oc #game of thrones Jon snow #Jon #jon snow x reader #jon snow x oc #winterfell #kings landing #free lands #house stark #house lannister #house targaryen #house baratheon #house greyjoy

[buildoblivionthenwewilltalk]

shield that guards the realms of men

#Jon snow #ghost #direwolf #nights watch #asoiaf #a song of ice and fire #game of thrones #storm of swords #minsart #my art #fanart #canonjonsnow

[racefortheironthrone]

Was Yoren in violation of his NW oath of neutrality by escorting Arya for Ned? If so, why did he do it?

Ever since ADWD, people have such a weird interpretation of the Night's Watch oath. Here's what the text actually says:

"Night gathers, and now my watch begins. It shall not end until my death. I shall take no wife, hold no lands, father no children. I shall wear no crowns and win no glory. I shall live and die at my post. I am the sword in the darkness. I am the watcher on the walls. I am the fire that burns against the cold, the light that brings the dawn, the horn that wakes the sleepers, the shield that guards the realms of men. I pledge my life and honor to the Night's Watch, for this night and all the nights to come."

Night's Watchmen are forbidden from having families (no wife, no children), banned from being a part of the feudal system (no lands), and forbidden from engaging in warfare for conventional motives (no crowns, no glory). That's it.

Even if we were going to say that the spirit of the Night's Watch oath encompasses neutrality in war between noble houses or kingdoms, which is fair enough, Yoren's actions don't constitute a breach of neutrality - he's not taking up arms for House Stark or House Lannister, he's not providing materiel to either side, all he's doing is letting a civilian child accompany a pre-existing convoy to Castle Black. If anything, I would argue that trying to save Arya Stark is totally consonant with Yoren's obligation to be "the shield that guards the realms of men," because Arya is absolutely part of the realms of men.

#asoiaf #asoiaf meta #the night's watch #night's watch oath #yoren #arya

[jackoshadows]

Game of Thrones did remind me a lot of British culture and history in terms of Sansa’s xenophobic rants against the Dothraki and Unsullied - who came to help the North from an existential apocalyptic threat and ended up dying in large numbers - being very similar to Brexit Britain.

The othering language used by the Starks - ‘She’s not one of us’. The backstabbing and betrayal of an ally come to help. Brexit was and is as nonsensical as Sansa’s entire ‘Northern independence’ shtick. The way Sansa had no issues feeding the Vale army but complained about feeding the Dothraki and the Unsullied reminds me of the likes of Rees Mogg, Nigel Farage and the UKIP party talking about immigrants and refugees.

And it really is discomforting to realize that a lot of people are fictionally for a UKIP party’s xenophobic hated of others given their rhetoric and support for show Sansa’s actions in GOT. It’s fascinating just in general how easily people fall in anglo-centric/imperialistic/colonial/racist/po-monarchial mindsets when you put a pretty face on the brochure!

ASoIaF on the other hand is fundamentally different to GOT in it’s narrative themes and the story it’s telling with the fight against the allegory for climate change - the Others - being more important than which noble family gets to rule over the Smallfolk. That has consistently been the message of the books.

I’m not an “American First” (and maybe because I read science fiction) I’m a “Terran First”. I’m a human being first. And I have this sympathy for other human beings no matter what side of the giant ice wall they happen to be born on. - GRRM

When dead men come hunting in the night, do you think it matters who sits the Iron Throne?” - Jeor Mormont

Why can't it be both?" Meera reached up to pinch his nose.

"Because they're different," he insisted. "Like night and day, or ice and fire."

"If ice can burn," said Jojen in his solemn voice, "then love and hate can mate. Mountain or marsh, it makes no matter. The land is one." - Jojen Reed

“Are you certain that I have not forgotten some? The ones about the king and his laws, and how we must defend every foot of his land and cling to each ruined castle? How does that part go?” Jon waited for an answer. None came. “I am the shield that guards the realms of men. Those are the words. So tell me, my lord— what are these wildlings, if not men?” - Jon Snow

The shield that guards the realms of men. Ghost nuzzled up against his shoulder, and Jon draped an arm around him. He could smell Horse’s unwashed breeches, the sweet scent Satin combed into his beard, the rank sharp smell of fear, the giant’s overpowering musk. He could hear the beating of his own heart. When he looked across the grove at the woman with her child, the two greybeards, the Hornfoot man with his maimed feet, all he saw was men. - Jon Snow

I also think we need to be consistent and if we are talking about Northern independence or Dornish independence or just the dissolution of the 7 kingdoms from the Iron Throne etc, then these discussions should also include the Iron Islands and Ned Stark/Stannis Baratheon crushing the Greyjoy rebellion and taking Theon Stark as a child hostage so that they would not fight back again. There is no one family or one house in the morally right here. They are ALL feudal lords fighting for power and for their house.

#asoiaf #anti GOT #Some people just misunderstood the story completely

[kalmaroth]

Can you believe that this is legitimately 💯% canon?

Sansa: Men of the Night's Watch are v. handsome 😌.

Jon: I am the shield 🛡️that guards the realms of men 😤

#jonsa crack #jonsa

[tamurilofrivendell]

Beauty and the Beast | Chapter 30

Previous Chapters [1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16, 17, 18, 19, 20, 21, 22, 23, 24, 25, 26, 27, 28, 29]

Read on AO3 [x]

Pairing: Thranduil/Fem. Reader Summary: A Beauty and the Beast inspired tale with Thranduil the Elvenking and a human reader from a nearby village Taglist: @captainchrisstan​ @rebleforkicks​ @yjrevolution​ @majahu​ @honey-wine @accio-boys​ @achromaticerebus​ @solomonssimp​ @tired-ass-show-girl​ @dreamlessnight​ @daddy-long-legolas​ @sleepyamygdala​ @coopsgirl​ @penguinlovestowrite​ @midsommar-nights​ @whore-of-many-hot-men​

“They have killed one of our own!” Vermund hollered from on high, pointing down at the dead body of the baker. “They have declared war!” Never mind the fact that he had riled all of these men up and brought them before the gates for no other reason but to attack. Never mind the fact that it was technically his fault the baker was dead. “Fight, men! Fight!”

Thranduil was completely rattled, not that it showed. He had more self control than that. However, the sight of humans in his realm, uninvited and armed, sent a rage through his blood that could not be quelled by mere talking.

The one who was yelling seemed to be in charge and Thranduil could already tell that this man had absolutely no honour in him. Using one of his own as a human shield! He was no better than an orc and Thranduil was disgusted.

“Tauriel!” He barked as the angry cries from the townsfolk behind him grew into a roar. “Get her out of sight.”

As his soldiers had surrounded their distracted king, moving between him and the group of armed men, Thranduil had taken you by the hand and all but dragged you towards his captain of the guard, who was standing beside Legolas. You had not noticed either of them in the commotion that had taken over when the humans approached.

“Thranduil!” You cried out, but he spared you no more than a glance before turning towards his son as Tauriel pulled you away back inside.

Thranduil and Legolas had followed but they veered off a different way, towards a staircase so they could ascend to wherever Vermund was. Your eyes never left Thranduil as he thundered up the stairs with a group of his people, pausing at the top for just a millisecond to seek you out in the crowd below. Satisfied you would be safe, Thranduil turned once more and disappeared from sight.

Tauriel pulled you towards a set of stairs that led down instead of up. You could hear the fighting outside at the gates and your heart was hammering in your chest. What was happening?! This wasn’t right, none of this was supposed to happen. Why was Vermund inside? What was he doing? You turned your frantic attention fully back to Tauriel, realising she had taken you down into the wine cellar.

“I’m sorry.” You found yourself saying to her, peering anxiously at the stairs you had both just descended.

Tauriel turned to look at you, her beautiful eyes full of confusion. “For what, my lady?”

“That you have been relegated to babysitting me instead of defending your own home from intruders.” You muttered, wringing your hands in frustration. “Intruders that I seem to have brought here.” She is the Captain of the guard! You thought. This must feel so beneath her.

Tauriel moved so that she was standing in front of you, lifting her hands to your upper arms to hold you in place. You blinked back at her. “Do not apologise.” She said firmly. “It is my honour.”

At your disbelieving expression, she gripped your arms a little more tightly. “My lady, if the King has chosen me to guard you... be assured that you are very important to him. That he thinks you very precious indeed. He would have no harm come to you and he knows that I shall let none.”

You didn’t realise you were crying until Tauriel reached up and swiped away your tears. You thought back to the festival, mere hours ago. Dancing with Thranduil, him sweeping the two of you away from the party to be alone, the mirror, the kiss... you knew Thranduil was a great warrior, you had seen it and you had read many things in the history books in the library over your time here. You knew he was no real match for mere mortals... but still you worried. Vermund was here and he did not play fair. You had seen rage in his eyes when he had shouted down from that balcony... he had the look of a man who would do anything.

Your thoughts were swept away as the clanging sound of sword upon sword came closer and Tauriel moved to push you behind a large barrel.

“Stay down.” Was all she managed to mutter before the cellar was infiltrated.

Thranduil had taken his son and his closest guards with him up the stairs. He didn’t know exactly how many other men this infiltrator had up here with him but he decided that the majority of their force needed to stay at the gate. The amount of men inside these halls could not outnumber the amount that stood before them.

When they reached the balcony, however, it was empty. There was not another being in sight and Thranduil was beyond angry. Where were they? He could not allow them to wander these halls unchecked, armed to the teeth, intent on fighting his people and taking you away against your will.

...was it against your will? He had technically set you free and your father was in trouble, unwell. Perhaps you would not be so averse...

Thranduil dismissed such thoughts quicker than he might have in the past, however. He thought back to the way you had clung to him down at the gates. The way you had been so eager to defend him and his people. The way you had seemed to balk at the appearance of that man.

His thoughts returned to the present moment and he whirled around, stalking back through the halls. “Find them!” He commanded in a growl, his fury sky-high as his guards scattered to hunt down the interlopers. “Kill them all.”

Vermund had ordered his men to scatter the moment the fighting had broken out. He needed to find a way to get the king alone and he needed to find you, in whichever order they presented themselves to him. Vermund needed all the distraction he could get. His men would keep the elves who were no doubt on their way up here busy.

Creeping through unfamilar hallways, his trusty sword at the ready, Vermund was fully alert and fully ready for whatever came his way. However, he seemed to rather easily have escaped most of the fighting so far, leaving it to the other townspeople... and sending those who had climbed up here with him to their doom to give himself a headstart and a distraction.

He came upon a half-hidden red doorway and, curious, Vermund pushed his way inside. Maybe he could find something expensive to steal while he waited for his chance to slay the Elf King.

Vermund could not have known that this doorway was one of the many entrances that connected the king’s private halls to the late queen’s. Nor could he know that the blackened rose he happened upon in one of the rooms beyond the door was so important to the king. He made a face at it before he turned and knocked the whole thing off the table, letting the glass case that enclosed the dead Starfire Rose smash to pieces against the marble floor. Its protective barrier vanishing as the rose turned to ashes and blew away in the breeze that blew in through the open window.

“You have just made a most grievous error.” A low, dangerous, voice rang out behind him.

Vermund whipped around from where he had turned to start stuffing his bag and pockets with the expensive looking jewels he had found on the nearby dresser.

Standing there before him was the King himself, armour-less, one of his twin swords in hand, narrowed gaze practically hot enough with anger to have burned through Vermund’s very skin like dragon fire.

Tauriel spun in place, thrusting her sword in front of her as a group of men came at her, outnumbering her and yet she fought tirelessly, moving with a grace that nearly had you mesmerised.

First she tried not to land a killing blow, under the impression that these people held beliefs that were not entirely their fault, but soon she was focused only upon keeping you safe and ridding the halls of the realm she loved and defended from the enemies at the door.

You had ducked behind the barrel when she had told you to but you couldn’t resist peeking out, registering some of the faces as familiar. The horsemaster’s son, the butcher’s brother. This was awful, why was this happening? Your two worlds had collided in the most violent of ways and all you wished was for everybody to understand, to cease this fighting, to come to peace.

“There she is!” The butcher’s brother cried out and, with alarm, you realised that he was pointing directly at you. “Get her! Quick!”

His words were cut off by Tauriel’s sword slicing through his leg. A cry left his lips as he fell to the floor but the other men had already heard and were turning their attentions to you. Tauriel, who would let no one near the king’s beloved, moved once more to stand directly in between you and the group of men who had started to make for your hiding place.

“My lady!” She shouted over her shoulder, swinging her weapon and preventing one from getting around her. “To the back of the room and out! Now! Go!”

Fuelled by dread the likes of which you had only felt when Thranduil found you in the West Wing the first time, you turned instantly and moved to the back of the room. There, behind a deep blue curtain, you found a doorway cut into the wall.

Glancing over your shoulder for just a moment, you pushed your way past the curtain and fled, running up the staircase, leaving Tauriel to take down the rabble of humans as easily as if she were cutting through shrubbery.

Thranduil stood, the tip of his sword pointed directly at Vermund’s chest. He had advanced slowly, moving with deadly ease, slow and deliberate.

“Who are you, who dares enter my domain, intent on attacking those who have never done a thing to you and yours.” Thranduil’s voice was level but there was a dangerous bite to it that was impossible to ignore, even for one as arrogant and conceited as Vermund.

He narrowed his own gaze back at Thranduil, lifting his chin defiantly. A coward though he may be, Vermund saw this creature as one of his greatest enemies in so short a time. He had seen the way you had latched onto this king by the gates, the way your face had fallen when you had seen Vermund himself. You were not locked away in a dungeon as your father had proclaimed you to be. Instead, you walked amongst these animals as though you were one of them, defended them as though they deserved it.

The evil sprite had obviously beguiled you with his dark magic. He wanted you for himself. Vermund would not allow it.

“One who would slay you where you stand, elf.” Came the reply, his tone a challenge all its own. “Vermund, son of Veraith. You will return what belongs to me or I will take it from you... in both scenarios, your life ends.”

Thranduil glared down at this man, the dangerous silence stretching as he regarded this villain. Vermund. Oh, yes, he knew of him alright. He recalled every word you had said about him. The way he sought to own you, hang you like an ornament at his side. The insistent way in which he had badgered you, wearing you down, demanding your hand again and again. He had seen the disgust in your eyes and, while you had assured him nothing horrific had happened at Vermund’s hand... Thranduil did not believe that would last. He knew of men such as this.

If there was a monster in this room, it was not himself, but the man who stood before him.

Thranduil sneered at him, pressing the blade a little harder into his chest. “Big words for such a small man, Vermund son of Veraith.”

With that, Thranduil moved to bring his sword back, preparing to bend into a swing. He wanted to end this, once and for all. He wanted this filth out of his halls - out of his wife’s chambers - and he wanted to take you to your father and bring the both of you back to the safety of these halls. Your village was clearly full of deranged imbeciles.

What Thranduil had not counted on was the other man hiding in the next room, back pressed against the hard wall around the open entryway, sword clasped firmly in front of him. He crept out as Thranduil had been speaking, his focus fixed upon Vermund. It was only at the last moment, as Vermund’s gaze shifted minutely from Thranduil’s face to the approaching man behind him and a small smirk crept onto his features, did Thranduil realise something was amiss.

He twisted his spin into a larger one, turning fast and hard upon the man behind him. Oeric raised his sword high, steel clashing upon steel, as his weapon met the Elvenking’s. Thranduil was staring down at him with contempt, practically snarling. “And who, pray tell, are you?”

“The distraction I needed.” Vermund said from behind him, leaping forward and giving Thranduil a massive shove. The action, mostly due to being so unexpected, sent Thranduil stumbling forward slightly. His sword moved with him, slicing through Oeric’s flesh like it was butter.

Vermund, seeing his supposed best friend as simply collateral damage in his rearview, turned and fled.

Thranduil, angry as a thunderstorm, stalked back out to the gates, where the fighting had now ceased. He saw the humans surrounded by his army but he was unfocused, his gaze flickering wildly around him. He was looking for that wretch, Vermund.

After the man had escaped him, Thranduil had dragged Oeric’s body from his wife’s chambers, and then scoured the entire floor, intent on finishing this once and for all. Trouble was, the man was now simply nowhere, and Thranduil’s anger would not be mitigated. He longed to carve into Vermund’s flesh and make a feast of him for the crows.

“Father.” Legolas approached, putting away his arrows and scanning the crowd that remained.

“Report.” He commanded his son, his gaze still flashing around the mob of humans now fully under control. Legolas gave him a brief rundown, assuring that the upper levels were clear. The men that were left were given a mercy, allowed to live so long as they fled this very moment and never again returned. The Elvenking made them understand in no uncertain terms that, if he were to ever set sights on any of them again, he would personally put to an end to their miserable little lives.

He turned back to his son as the humans fled into the forest, ignoring the fact that they were heading the wrong way. Getting a little lost in the darkness of Mirkwood was no less than they deserved. Still... he would send a couple of spies after them at some point, to make sure they did not perish... once he had cooled down.

He noted that Vermund was not amongst them.

Thranduil said your name then, turning from his son to scan around, seeking you in the crowd. “Where is she?” This directed at Legolas but his son could only shrug, having not seen you. He, too, turned to look around but you were nowhere to be seen.

“My King!” Tauriel’s voice rang out, loud and clear over the heads of his people. She came running from inside, having witnessed the entire thing. “He has taken her into the forest!”

Thranduil’s heart nearly stopped as he turned from Tauriel, unable to hide the dismay on his face, as he stared at the thick expanse of trees before him.

All that stood before him saw in the king’s eyes the heartbreak and the fear that coursed through him at the thought of that monster taking you away, and they recalled a similar expression upon his face the day his queen had been ripped from him and he had been unable to prevent it.

Without another thought or word, he moved, disappearing into the forest at speed.

#thranduil x reader #thranduil x you #thranduil fanfiction #thranduil fanfic #lotr x reader #beauty and the beast

[nightswatchdisbandmentera]

She wasn’t a famous knight, and kings were supposed to put the realm before their sisters.

Arya IV, ASOS

AKSJSNIABABSNABSBS

Jon Snow could’ve “put the realm before his sister” by rationalizing that he can do more good as Stannis’ man and Lord of Winterfell. But he chose not to because

Which would you have as Lord of Winterfell, Snow? The smiler or the slayer?”

Jon said, “Winterfell belongs to my sister Sansa.”

The same Jon who, when push came to shove, decided to become a deserter, to abandon his post as the “shield that guards the realms of men”, for his family….FOR HIS SISTER!!!

I have my swords, thought Jon Snow, and we are coming for you, Bastard.

Yarwyck and Marsh were slipping out, he saw, and all their men behind them. It made no matter. He did not need them now. He did not want them. No man can ever say I made my brothers break their vows. If this is oathbreaking, the crime is mine and mine alone.  […]

IM CRYING SCREAMING THROWING UP IN THE CLUB RN

#JON SNOW BEST BOY ISTG!!!! #😭 😭 😭 😭 #he said realm before sister where??!! and then he fucking died rip #fly high king you will forever be THAT BITH 🕊️ 👑 #asoiaf #jon snow #valyrianscrolls #arya stark #sansa stark

[imkaycurious]

a fun story I wrote speculating on the real reason behind football.

"King of My Heart"

In Taylor Swift's realm, her private life wove tales of mystery, crafting an enigmatic puzzle within her ever-evolving reputation. Travis Kelce, unwittingly drawn into her calculated performance, found himself entangled in her scripted narrative—an intentional commentary on her public relationships, nodding toward the upcoming "Reputation" album re-release.

Their convergence became an orchestrated spectacle, where Taylor employed her music both as disguise and revelation—a satire unraveling for astute observers, mirroring the exaggerated relationships depicted in her songs.

Taylor staged public sightings with Travis, scenes hinting at her "Reputation" motifs. She blurred reality and artistry, echoing lyrics through orchestrated events—a deliberate display, a dramatic prelude to her saga.

For instance, Travis's unwitting endorsements became cues in Taylor's choreography—a purposeful commentary, echoing the lines she teased: "But if he drops my name, then I owe him nothin'." His incessant references to Taylor across various platforms, from podcasts to magazines, became pivotal in Taylor's narrative direction. His continual mentions echoed the very lyrics she hinted at, weaving a crafted tapestry blurring reality with her lyrical themes.

Moreover, Taylor's actions mirrored her songwriting. For example, flying Travis to her Argentina show echoed her lyrics: "I fly him all around the world, letting them believe he saved me," turning reality into a nod to her songwriting prowess. Their public embrace further blurred the lines between her constructed narrative and lyrical parallels, intensifying the drama of her commentary on public relationships.

As Taylor's meticulously crafted story unfolded, some fans astutely noted parallels between her public maneuvers and lyrical excerpts from her songs. Inconsistencies, unlike her typical approach, began to surface. Lyrics spanning from her "Reputation" era to her most recent work hinted at a desire for discreet love, in stark contrast to the highly publicized relationship unfolding before their eyes.

While some fans detected these discrepancies, perceiving a deliberate divergence from Taylor's usual authenticity, others staunchly believed every facet of her public portrayal. For a segment of her audience, Taylor's actions remained sacrosanct, defending her relationship's authenticity despite inconsistencies. These fans staunchly supported Taylor's every move as genuine, failing to perceive any dissonance.

Amidst the meticulously crafted facade, Taylor harbored a deeply guarded secret—a truth obscured by the glittering illusion of her highly publicized relationships. Privately entwined in a profound and genuine love affair with a woman, Taylor grappled with the suffocating constraints of her fabricated public persona. Her retreat and subsequent emergence with the "Reputation" album had been a retreat into secrecy, shielding her true self from the scrutinizing gaze of the world.

The ostentatious relationships with men, seemingly exaggerated and fantastical, were elaborate veils woven to conceal her private reality. It was a paradoxical dance she performed—adorning herself with the allure of high-profile romances while safeguarding the most authentic aspect of her life in profound secrecy. Her heart yearned for liberation, a fervent longing to shed the pretense and embrace her genuine identity.

The "Reputation" album's reissue held the promise of emancipation, a glimpse of light at the end of the meticulously constructed tunnel. Taylor's hope rested on finally embracing her truth, relinquishing the suffocating weight of the charade, and stepping into the liberating embrace of authenticity.

Within the orchestrated theatrics of her public narrative, Taylor maneuvered a grand chessboard, each move calculated and strategic. Travis, unwittingly thrust into the spotlight, played the role of a pawn—a mere piece in her elaborate game of perception. He moved according to her plan, a maneuver in her intricate strategy, while Taylor meticulously positioned herself for the ultimate conquest.

The parallels to chess intricately woven within Taylor's music, performances, and subtle references paid silent homage to the covert game she orchestrated. The song "King of My Heart" whispered of a concealed love, shrouded behind lyrical intricacies—a love not for the pawn but for the ultimate prize, the king of her heart.

Travis, portrayed as the unwitting pawn in her scripted drama, unknowingly played his part in Taylor's masterful game. While the world fixated on his movements, he was a mere piece in Taylor's grand strategy—a strategy ultimately seeking the capture of her most guarded secret, her true love.

#kaylor #bearding #the pr of it all #mastermind

[tabibitto]

Heirs of The Moon

m.list

CW: not proofread cuz i wrote this mid class lmao, mentions of sex, drugging and death (not the mc), dysfunctional family

Summary: Since the death of Crepus Ragnvindr, His two sons have all but severed ties with each other. Only speaking when they must. And neither brother ever fails to remind the other of the reason why. However strong their hatred for each other, they never managed to show such disdain towards their little sister. But perhaps hate would have been kinder then neglect.

Note: This is based off the theory that Pierro is Kaeya's father, and that the Tsaritsa is collecting gnosis to rebel against celestia

<< Previous | Next >>

Chapter 2: Watchers in The Wall

night gathers and now my watch begins

Mondstat. The Great City of Wind and Wine. Full of Songs and Bards and Freedom to do as one wishes.

It felt real, sitting atop the tallest windmill in the main city, looking down at the people, packing up their things to go to home. Take a rest, eat dinner. The simplicity and uniqueness of every person she took a glance at made her smile, just a little.

The things she never got to enjoy, will never get to experience without casting a cautious glance back.

The things she has protected on behalf of others. While everyone goes to bed, only two people remain awake

it shall not end until my death.

While Diluc takes the supposed mysterious and lowkey job of a vigilante, she takes it as an opportunity to gather information. Get blackmail, intel. Interrogate

She cared not for the wellbeing of others who would not give a shit about hers, had they seen her in danger. Diluc was glorified hero, whilst Lady Albrich, and to her dismay, Her brother Kaeya—were most skilled in strategy and scheme. More her then him, since he too had decided to join the Knights, an incapable lot if you asked her

I shall take no wife, hold no lands. father no children

The last door shut, and her watch began. Pulling a hood over her head, she took a seemingly leisurely walk down the walls of mondstat. Heels clicking, loudly, challengingly, and yet it had no source.

Since the beginning of the end of Autumn in Mondstat, this sound had been one repeating almost every night. It faded to one wall and became louder in the other, surrounding the city and taking it hostage in its grasp

i shall wear no crowns. win no glory

It was eerie, irritating to the ear until it made you wanna scream to drown out the sound. And just when you thought you couldn't take it anymore....

i am the shield that guards the realms of men

It stopped, and seemingly turned into a specific intersection before fading into its victims home.

Today, it was Mikail. For the time being he was no victim but an ally. A Fatuus stationed in Mondstat to report back to his superior, and the intel would get to Lord Tartaglia.

It was amusing really. The ginger truly was a puppy to play fetch with. The Fatui had seemingly bored Mondstat and decided to keep a lazy eye on it. Up until recently when Y/N had made her next move. Did Pierro order more personnel into the city of freedom to watch her.

i am the sword in the darkness

And Mikhail, was to be her plaything until she got all she needed.

Men like him were so easy, anything for a person with a set of tits. Especially when war and violence is added into the equation. Soldiers throw themselves at women's feet for a chance to bask in pleasure before the pain

And Y/N knew how to play them to her needs. Her brothers were aware of her silver tongue, it seemed to run deep in Albrich family. What else she did though, was up to their imagination

Despite hating their little sister they never wanted to acknowledge the sinful things she did. The rumors that went about. They decided to close an ear when it came to things that made their skin crawl to think about her being in. Diluc couldn't give two shits about her fairs until it involved violence. Only then would he almost sound like he cared. Since he didn't pay mind to it when it was his brother the culprit.

Tsk, Tsk. Father wouldn't be pleased

The so-called gentlemen he raised broke up the family they had. How sad

Nonetheless, she knocked a pattern on the door, and was instantly let in by an all too eager, silver-haired male.

Y/N chuckled, "Eager are we? You know what I want Mikhail, do it for me and ill give you what you want." Luckily, this was her last day in his home.

He gazed up with wondrous but annoyed eyes. "Later Later, please i really need you today." He gripped onto her arm, tugging her. But she didn't budge

Y/N lifted her foot off the ground and shoved it into his chest, making him sit, keeping a steady hold on his lower stomach with it. "I won't give you anything if you aren't good to me. That's only fair." He sighed, raising his bare arms in surrender.

"The Balladeer has been turned into a God in Sumeru, soundly defeated by the Traveler however."

She raised a brow, "The Jester allowed this? Doesn't he have hate to all archons and adepti? Even his snow queen gets the stink eye."

"It was an experiment, if they could use it to infiltrate and further progress to Her Majesty The Tsaritsa's goal, it was nothing him and The Doctor couldn't tinker with."

"Is that so? Do you know where The Doctor is now? I heard he returned to Scheznaya." She let go of him and began to take off her coat and heels, making herself comfortable.

Quickly, he hurried to tell her what he had. "Yes, he is. Reporting to Her Majesty, He doesn't plan to leave soon. Make haste." Mikhail grabbed her by the waist and spun her around. Tackling her back to the couch he sat on a moment ago.

Within a few hours the last of her deal with the Fatuus was exchanged. Drying her hair as she quietly walked back into the bedroom, Y/N crouched down to the floor, instead of making a rukus to put her clothes back on, she began to fill a syringe in her bag with polluted water.

It was easy work. Slipping the needle into his arm pressing down gently and watched his body shiver and writhe while she took her time putting her clothes back on.

i am the watcher in the walls

She grabbed her bag and her cloak and quietly stepped out of his home, heels clicking once more as she began to make her way out of mondstat and to her home in Springvale.

"There you are~ " Spoke a voice deep, and familiar. Mocking and angry. She stopped and her glare set on her face naturally.

Turning around, she raised her chin high and looked down her nose.

"Mr. Ragnvindr, to what do I owee the pleasure on this fine night? Out for a stroll..

Darknight Hero?"

Night Gathers and now my watch begins

I hereby pledge my life to King Irmin and the homeland . For this Night, and All nights to come.

taglist: @angryhope @nobl3sse

#genshin fic #genshin impact #genshin impact fanfic #genshin x y/n #diluc #diluc ragnivindr x reader #genshin x you #diluc x reader #genshin impact kaeya #kaeya alberich #kaeya angst #diluc angst #Scheznaya #the Tsaritsa #tartaglia smut #tartaglia angst #childe fluff #fatui Harbinger reader #diluc and kaeya and purely platonic siblings

[agentrouka-blog]

Hey Rouka 😸 I've seen a lot of people theorizing that Jon will create the peace between the Others/Westerosi by becoming a "Night's King" or something, and honestly, I think it's plausible. What do you think of this theory, and how could Jonsa tie in? Do you see Jon leaving WF as a sacrifice to save the world?

Hi there!

No, that's not really a theory I find plausible.

There's already a Stark who'se been lured North to wallow in the deep magic like a pig in the mud, and it's not Jon. Bran is in the process of learning whatever it was that set the ice threat in motion and he has the most direct access to actually doing anything about those underlying causes. That has been his plot since book one. Bran is the solution, not Jon. I cannot think of a reason why anyone would try to shift that role onto Jon. In magical terms, the kid is... not that important? Sam has had more exposure to magic than Jon has. Much more. The world hinging on him becoming a magical hostage doesn't seem like much of a solution, and thematically it doesn't really resonate, either. What's the underlying message there? The Others were lacking in competent leadership all along, so the long-faced orphan and his fierce pet will show them how to not turn corpses into zombies anymore?

I think Jon will not even be in the North when the big solution to the ice threat happens. The kid has a revelation about his true parentage coming up, and two family members with potentially helpful armies about to vie for power in the South. His arc has always been more political and worldly than magical, in spite of Ghost doing a lot of the heavy lifting in connecting the Watch to helpful information. (At whose instigation, I wonder? Bran's, maybe?) Jon works most effectively with people. He's an administrator, battle commander and negotiator. His priority has always been saving the maximum amount of human lives. The Shield that guards the Realms of Men. Those same talents are likely to come into handy when he confronts the human face of the fire threat closing in on Westeros. He's dealt with Mance. He's dealt with Stannis. He's dealt with the Iron Bank. He's dealt with Tormund. He'll keep haggling like that proverbial fishwife. To save lives. And he'll fight if he has to, or make peace if he can.

All that king imagery is certainly leading somewhere, but Jon is not a king of magic. He is a much worldlier leader.

So, no, I don't think he'll have to leave Winterfell as a sacrifice to save the world. Winterfell, jonsa and kingship will tie together in a much smoother way.

#rouka queue #jon snow #asoiaf speculation #jonsa #magic in asoiaf

[cal-a-bungaa]

The Realm

The Realm Part Six - Prince!Jake Kiszka

Synopsis: Both so close to getting what was wanted from one another, but yet again, another trial has separated the two.

Word count: 4.5k

Warnings: Violence, weapons, mentions/descriptions of death, slightly steamy

Enjoy! Sorry this took me so long!!! And huge thank you to @capturethechaos and @writingcold for your help on this!

__________

Months ago you would have ran straight into his arms, greeting him with nothing but love. Now, you stand before him with your palms sweating and nails piercing into your skin. Jake was unmoving too, keeping to the saddle of his stallion. From a distance he still looks like your Jake, the prince who stole your heart with nothing more than his eyes. To know that those eyes now stare at you with such darkness and hatred, broke you. 

_____

His heart still raced with her in sight. It still beat for her and only her. Her blue dress reminded him of the bright sky that painted the world around them and how the sun made its presence known in the heat of its beams. It had Jake submitting to the warmth, feeling his twin reside within him. 

Jake let her soak in his presence for more than he’d like to admit. He didn’t do it for her, but for himself to get one good look at her before she hates him forever. He was selfish with her and the love she gave. He wanted her to continue looking at him in such a light rather than the distaste that is to come once he climbs off the black stallion he’s seated upon. She was his, always would be but this needed to happen in Jake’s eyes; there was no other option now that Josh had met his end by the hands of those who wore the Werian crest. 

It wasn’t your fault, he knew that much. But you were an accomplice with your father being the cruel warrior that the tales told. Whilst he was a good king and father, he was nothing less than brutal to his enemies on the battlefield. He trained his men that same way; the loss of morality when holding a blade or bow. The only one the old king did not raise to be ruthless was his sweet princess. He showed her how to be a good ruler without the need for bloodshed but nonetheless he was hypocritical in his ways. He spilt the blood of another king, not once but twice and took no blame for it. 

Even though she stood before him, adoration still rested in her irises. But she looked like a total stranger; this was not the princess he left behind all those agonizing months ago. She was never one to care for modesty and now is covered head to toe in clothing, not a sliver of skin seen. Even the jewels she once donned and admired took no residence upon her skin except a crown which she’d never done before, opting to stay far away from that part of herself until necessary. There was a drastic difference in the person before him and he could not pin what it was. Possibly the heartbreak he had the both of them go through, but even then it didn’t seem right. 

Jake could see that his cherished was not herself, she is embodying a persona. Observing the changes within her had him momentarily forget why he was even at the doorstep of her home. Now was not the time to notice how his darling princess was a stranger. 

Unsheathing his sword, the king of Strainad descended his stallion. He could hear the clatter of metal from behind him as he gathered back his lost courage to approach her. Walking out from behind the dark horse, his bloodied armor is revealed and how dirtied he was from wrestling Werian soldiers from killing him or others. The guards surrounding her pointed their own swords at him, raising their shields high. Jake can no longer see her beauty, blocked by the Werian symbol. He can hear a faint whisper with each step he takes up the stone stairs and soon she reappears before him, closer but still so distant. 

          As he reaches the top step, the guards take formation behind her rather than in front. “You put trust in me that much?” He promptly asks, thumb caressing the handle of the weapon he wields. 

          “Trust?” Her voice… Jake can feel the muscles relax, soothing at the sound of her speaking to him. “It’s not trust, it’s a firm belief I have.” 

          “I’ve not come for you so your belief may step aside.”

          The princess does not stand down, taking more steps to be almost flush against him. Jake can feel his heart pounding and his face heating up at their close proximity. “The one you seek is not here.” He watches how her eyes flash him with sadness. 

          “I will not play this game,” Jake tightens his grip on his sword. Her eyes break away from his own to glance down at the steel he holds. She looks uneasy, almost afraid of such a blade. “Move.” 

          When she meets his gaze again, it is stone cold. No trace of any emotion is left behind. “No.” 

          “I do not wish to hurt you, but if I must,” the king goes to raise his sword towards her, “then I will.”

          The guards behind her all take a stance, ready to attack if he makes any threatening move. But she is quicker, lifting her own blade to Jake's throat as his comes to rest beside hers. He eyes the dagger, trying to place a finger on why it looks familiar. The sharp point digs into the skin just below his jaw, ready to be painted crimson. Jake can’t help but smirk as he observes the blade she holds against him, admiring her fierceness that had never presented itself before him. She truly was a different person now than she was when they were to be wed. No longer innocent and afraid of her own shadow, but a strong princess that was ready to take the throne as her own. 

          “Where’d you learn that quick trick, dear?” Jake grins, finding it all so amusing. Her frown deepens, pushing the dagger further into his dirtied tan skin. No response to his commentary comes from the princess, just flared nostrils and heated eyes. “Just tell me where he is and this will be over.” 

          Her stance falters for a moment, giving Jake the perfect opportunity to bring his free hand up and knock the dagger from her grip. He winces at the sting it brings as it slices him. The small blade clatters to the ground and he now holds her wrist tightly. His nostrils flare, letting the anger he’s felt take over. Jake was tired of the games, even if she was the one playing them. He needed the old king dead. Her guards all take a step towards the two of them, one goes as far to say, “on your command, your majesty.” Your majesty. 

          The crown, the title…. It all made sense now. The king had perished and he was not informed. His love was now the queen to a great kingdom. He shed the blood of his beloved's men… she had her men kill his brother. It started with the late king and continued on with her. Jake’s grip tightened around her wrist, bruising already taking form along her skin. He watches as her lips move, but cannot hear anything besides the ringing in his ears and his own cries he made less than a day ago. Without Jake taking notice, the Werian guards all stand down, taking residence behind the now closed wooden doors. He hadn’t even realized that he was pushing her backwards until her back met a wall. 

If there was no king then he would have to take the queen, but how could he? Even in his clouded mind, he still saw her. 

_____

Your head was the first to collide with the brick wall, sending jolts of pain throughout your body. Jake was so lost in thought, ready to fall off the edge. His nostrils flared and his breathing had picked up drastically. He still held your wrist, but now above your head. 

“Do you realize what you have done?” Jake doesn’t even look at you as he speaks, rather looking at his muddy boots. “Do you even care that you killed him?” Jake spits out at you.  

Jake drops his sword to the cold floor, listening intently to the clanking metal before taking your throat in his grip too. He held you in place, trying to not be rough with you unless necessary. You try to fight his strength, pushing yourself away from the wall into him. Jake pushes you back into place, harder than before, your head throbbing from being slammed into the stone. His thumb caresses the skin of your neck softly, getting scarily closer to the scabbed over wound that was given to you in the night. 

His eyes are glossed over and stone cold. “Do you feel strong? Brave even?” Jake leans in close, letting his breath trace your cheekbone. “Knowing you killed a king. You killed a king seeking to make amends.” 

He could hear your breathing shake with his words. He’d broken a piece of your wall you’d put up upon his arrival. Jake wasn’t stupid, he knew you loved Josh as he did- he knew it would pain you to relive the knowledge of his untimely death. You had blamed yourself and your father for all that had happened. You were not able to find the real perpetrator in time to prevent anymore bloodshed and your father died before he could ever send his remorseful letter to the late king of the sun. Jake was king now, even if he’d been thrown into it and you’d be damned if anyone dared harm him in the way you let a soldier pierce his brother's heart. 

The sarcasm and taunting that oozed past his lips made your knees want to melt, but you stood tall in the controlled position he’d put you in. You were aware that he could feel your racing pulse in your wrist in his grip and hear the shakiness of your breathing. 

Gathering whatever courage you forced yourself to have, you look into his darkened eyes. You hold his hard stare. A king and a queen that should’ve been ruling together staring one another down, waiting to see who will strike first. Jake knew you and you knew him, there was no secrecy between your gazes. He was letting all of his thoughts and emotions out with his stare; sharing his grief, sadness, and anger with you. You were letting him know of your love, your guilt, your fear. But your words said otherwise. 

“You killed him too- We killed a king, Jake.” Your voice is strained from the weight of his hand. 

Jake did not respond well to you speaking the truth. He knew better than anyone it was his fault more than anything, but to hear it slip past your soft lips didn’t help. He could have stopped Josh from leaving with him. He could have stayed by his side during battle. He could have let the kings hash it out rather than take matters into his own two hands. It was his fault. 

The king's body squishes your own between his and the stone wall, his forehead centimeters away from connecting yours. His lips- those soft, blush colored plush lips of his that you craved to be upon yours, brush against your own. Your breaths mingled, hot and heavy. 

“There is no we. I might have grabbed the sword, but you pierced his heart.” Jake's eyes turned red, tears pooling along his lash line.

_____

Jake loosened his grip, letting his head fall forward to hers. There is no we. That is the last thing he wanted right now. He was so enraged with himself, with her father and with Josh. Two of which he could not take his anger out on, so he piled it onto himself and her. Jake could see the bruising that was already beginning to form around her neck and wrist. He wishes in the moment that he could feel guilt- he’d take her and make sure she knew of his love, but he needs to make her understand her part in Josh’s death. 

His hands fall away from her body, instead taking residence on the wall she’d been back in to. Her lips are tight in a fine line, every so often he can see her chin quiver as if she is holding back her own tears. Jake wanted to kiss them away, but he’d also like to see more bruises on her skin. She takes this moment of weakness to bring a gentle hand to his cheek. Jake tenses, having been touch starved for so long he can no longer recall what it’s like to be in a position like this. He finds himself falling for her again, nuzzling himself into her palm right where she wants him to be. 

Jake closes his eyes, taking in the affection she is allowing him. When she starts to brush her thumb over his cheek, he decides that’s enough, pulling himself away from her. He’d been so absorbed in the feeling that is his light and love that he failed to notice she’d recovered his sword. The tip of the blade grazed the skin below his chin, titling his head upwards so it wouldn’t impale him. 

He let out a humorless laugh, looking back into her eyes that held nothing but rage now. His own blade stared him down, threatening his life. Everything that was Jake’s was a threat to his well being. 

“Perhaps you shouldn’t let your guard down, my king.”

Her lips tilt up into a smirk- one that made Jake want to erase it from her face, make her grovel for forgiveness at his feet. In this very hall, he wanted her bare and on her knees, tears streaming down her cheeks as she chokes. The way she wields his sword has his pants growing tight.  

“And perhaps you are brave, my queen,” He smirks back at her, fueling the fire within her and himself. “But what’s your plan here, love? If my eyes aren't deceiving me, you’re the one backed against a wall.”

She drags to blade down the length of his throat, teasing him with the thrill of her taking charge. Maybe this whole thing wasn’t to harm anyone- well, it was at first, but now Jake would rather teach his pretty queen quite the lesson. He now knew what it felt like to be her, put into a position where the other had all control. But Jake wasn’t yet sure if he liked her to be the one wielding the power. She may have the position to rule a kingdom but to rule over him, that’s not something he is going to allow. If there was one thing about Jake, he never loosened his hold over her.

His queen brought the blade back under his chin, forcing his head up. “And I’m not the one with a blade pointed at me,” She peels herself away from him, taking steps back to put distance between the two of them. He admires her in the way she pretends to be such a person- one that threatens and edges danger. She circles around him, dragging the tip of the steel blade along with her. “You should suffer. You should feel the pain through the pain I have felt since your absence. It would be fulfilling.”

“How it warms my heart to know you’ve missed me so.” Jakes back arches slightly as she presses the blade a little too far. Shivers rack through him. 

The quiet click of her heels flood his senses. He listens to the way she walks, her rhythm, the way she is paying such close attention to his body at that moment. “Would you prefer I hadn’t?” At his side, she stands on the tips of her toes to whisper into his ear. 

Jake didn’t feel the cold steel of his sword anymore, taking the moment to assess her thoughts. He knew she wouldn’t- couldn’t bring herself to hurt him. He was all she had left, hatred and all. He feels that there is no threat present as she circles back into his field of vision. Her cheeks are flushed, eyes darkened with something Jake had never seen in them before- something that pushes his need. 

To his surprise, he is not the one to act first. His control is slipping, the thread is tearing and straining against her fight for it. She’d dropped the sword and took his face in her hands before he could even register the clanking of metal and stone colliding. Jake's hands instinctively grab at her waist, pulling her into his chest and letting their bodies speak for them. Her hands were still as warm and soft as he remembered them to be, but her lips were rougher- she’d bitten them raw. They push and pull, both trying to fight for dominance they both desire. Jake couldn’t recall a time where they have shared a kiss like this one- hot, fast, teeth clashing in a fit of flooding need. He was always gentle with her, letting her know of the love he held for her. In the moment, he could sense she had changed. How the months had molded and shifted her. He could only hope that she could sense the same within him. 

Her hands slip into his hair, tugging at his roots as hard as she can. Jake breaks their kiss to let out a groan. She is relentless in her aim for power, taking his bottom lip between her teeth and pulling it. This isn’t what Jake came here for, he came for revenge but some part of his mind dared to hope for this. As she releases his lips from her teeth, Jake looks into her eyes and sees the lust and love they emblazoned within them. He inches his hands upwards, memorizing every divot of her body before taking the control he needed back. Jake takes a fistful of her hair, pulling her head back to expose her neck to him. 

Knocking Jake from his lustful daze, a scabbing wound rests under her chin still red around the edges- fresh and painful. She’s not brave nor has she changed, his queen is scared. She demanded the control that had been taken from her in recent events. Jake does not know the story of how she got her skin sliced, but he is sure it wasn’t from him. Not wanting to ask, Jake simply leans in and presses a feathery light kiss over the wound. She swallows hard and shivers under his touch. Bringing his eyes back to hers, he sees that they have softened, but a touch of fear looms dangerously in the back of her mind. 

_____

Jake releases his hold on you, allowing your body to slouch before him. Your mind hadn’t even caught up to what had just conspired between the two of you, it was like nothing you’d ever known before. He’d never been so rough yet so… Jake towards you. The fighter that rests inside of him has presented itself in full force, never allowing you to let your guard down regardless of how you wished for him.

His hands on you and in your hair set your body ablaze, striking a fire in you that another could never dare to replicate. All of the resentment and desolation had poured over. It boiled over too far and now here you were- panting and flushed before the king you wanted more than life itself. Jake was in a state similar to yours, but stared at you with such pity that made you want to collapse in on yourself. You knew the moment he saw that cut under your chin, he would see you  as a feeble little girl. As a queen that couldn’t defend even herself, how were you to defend your people and your home? You fully allowed someone to cause you to falter- to bring shame to the crown you inherited. The cut was a reminder that you were not, safe nor were you in power of anything. You were a mere damsel in distress and Jake could clearly see that. 

Jake steps back away from you as if he’d harmed you in some way. His pupils have long since dilated, having not retreated back to their natural deep brown color since you’d pressed your lips to his. No longer having his hands on you reminds you of the first time he’d left you alone to grieve his presence and love. He may not have been gentle with you as you were not with him, but to feel that radiating off of him again was liberating. To feel the reverberating beat of his heart beneath his chest plate. You remembered the way his heart would lull you to sleep as the moon rested high in the nights sky. It beat so steadily, but whenever you’d be in his presence it would pick up its pace, drumming from under your touch. 

Even as you looked over his face his eyes never connected with yours, only looking down at the barely visible soon-to-be scar under your chin. Jake’s stare was blank, the pity gone like he had nothing more to feel towards you. 

“Who?” he whispers, lowering his voice.

You blink, surprised by his words. His hand lifts to drag the collar of your dress down, getting a better glimpse of the wound you donned. 

“I asked you who did this.”

Jake tightens his grip on the fabric of your dress. “Last night… he came in and I-I wasn’t aware-”

“I didn’t fucking ask you when,” He balls his fist in your collar, pulling you towards him. “I asked who did this to you.”

The tone of his voice has you shaking, afraid of what will come if you tell him the truth. “In my chambers… it was dark, I couldn’t see-” You scramble to find the words. You couldn’t tell him that you didn’t recognize the voice nor see the perpetrators face. 

“Your chambers?” Jake asks dangerously low. “They were in your damn chambers? Where the fuck were your guards?”

His lips were pulled to a fine line, letting his anger be known. His eyes were darkened by the rage that swarmed within them. Jake seemed to have a new enemy and it was no longer your late father, it was whomever dared lay a single finger on you. You, in a state of less than decent, Jake couldn’t take that and walk away- he needed to find who was responsible for letting this happen under their watch. His knuckles began to turn white from how hard he was gripping the fabric of your dress. He could so easily tear it from you at this moment and that was partially what you wanted at this time. You knew Jake was livid, coming to your aid even after everything, but it showed you that he still held you in his heart. He still cared and to you that is all that matters, more than what guards failed to protect you and your modesty. 

Your dainty fingers reach up to trace the small scar on his cheek. “Jacob.”

Jake's eyes tore away from the small cut to look into your own, seeing the fear you held on to. He pulls you further into his chest, flicking his gaze between your eyes, lips and the wound. He couldn’t sort his head, you could see the millions of thoughts rushing through his brain. You swipe your thumb over the scar again, letting him know that you’re still with him. 

“I want to know who.” he’s close enough to you again where you can feel the heat of his breath against your skin.

You look down at the stained armor he wore, “I don’t know…”

Jake scoffs, “I don’t know who attacked me says the queen. How the fuck do you not know?” The look in his eyes sends a shiver down your spine. How worked up he is over your safety is making you dress become unbearably uncomfortable, you want to be bare before him, letting him in on everything secret you held. 

He goes to tear away from you, letting the rage take over and the desperate need to hunt down whoever did this. You grab his hand as it comes back down towards your hip. “Please, Jake… Don’t leave me a second time.” you beg him. 

Jake's fist slams into the wall beside your head, splitting the skin on his knuckles. You involuntarily flinch at his show of aggression. He wouldn’t dare hit you like that, but after being threatened and harmed the night previous, there was no way of knowing who would hurt you next. Jake saw the way you curled in on yourself as his fist connected with the cold stone wall, making him wish he had never done it to begin with. He was so wrapped up in his own thoughts and anger that he forgot to think about how you felt in this situation. You both were so close to getting what you wanted from one another, but yet again, another trial has separated the two of you. Jake’s body relaxes, lowering his fist from the stone to the curve of your waist and places his forehead to yours. You scanned his face, seeing the pain that racked through him physically and emotionally. You’re aware that even if he says he doesn’t, he needs you to be safe and if he can't be the one to provide that security then someone else should.

“They could have taken everything...” Jake mutters. His eyes were screwed shut and lips downturned in disgust at the mere thought. 

Your other hand comes up to cup his cheek. The young king leans in to the touch, reveling in the warmth that your skin brings him. “It feels like they have, my love.” You whisper to him. “But there’s still you.” 

Jake’s eyelids flick open in confusion, “What do you mean feels like they have?”

Your lungs constrict, making it hard to breathe. The memory of your attack speaking to you about the horrific acts that have been committed towards your loved ones haunts you. You found it almost impossible, but there’s no other explanation for what’s happened. For why your father suddenly died and why Josh had been almost killed in the room just down the hall. 

“Josh, my father… It was someone I’d never heard of. I still don’t know who, but it was purposeful. Their deaths weren’t coincidental or accidental.”

Jake’s brows furrow, trying to piece together the information he’s been told. His mouth opens and closes, the words not quite forming. 

“Someone’s trying to kill us, Jake.”

__________

taglist: @allieisacrybaby @writingcold @gardensgatedaisy @hayley1623 @gretasmokerising @josh-iamyour-mama @ageofsinners @capturethechaos @takenbythemadness @jakekiszkasbuttsweat

#the realm #greta van fleet imagine #greta van fleet x reader #jake kiszka x reader #jake kiska fic #jake kiszka series #greta van fleet fic #gret a van fleet series #the realm part six #jake kiszka #prince!jakekiszka